


Portrait

by orphan_account



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Melodrama, Short One Shot, gazing at portraits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Celi runs into Murata on the way to bed. Murata muses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portrait

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before I knew about ghostly!shinou and is far from my best work. Nonetheless it exists and isn't my worst either.  
> I hope you enjoy!!

The Great Sage was standing in the hallway, perfectly situated between the portraits of the first Maoh and his own original body.  
He was gazing at the picture of Shinou, the torchlight highlighting the sad faraway look on his face. When Lady Celi greeted him  
as she paused on her way to bed he nearly jumped out of his skin before composing himself. 

“I guess it never stops hurting does it?” she inquired, glancing at the portrait of the blond man. It hung against the wall as still  
and fine as it had for as long as she could remember.

“I spent my life with him you know?” Murata paused his eyes glazed as he paused, remembering “The first one, the one that  
mattered” the sage turned, looking straight at Celi as he continued “it seems unreal that so much time has passed. It doesn't hurt  
so much anymore, but if you really really love someone—Like I loved Shinou—it never goes away. Because when we were together  
we were the same person, although he was the better part.” Murata smiled jokingly then, and his eyes showed every single year  
he'd lived through.

“Hey at least you got the time you had right?” Lady Celi suggested. She often told herself this when thinking of her second  
husband, the times when her life intersected Dunheely's short brilliant existence were some of her best memories despite being  
marred by the times effect on the human. Nonetheless in this conversation she felt somewhat out of her depth. Murata had lived  
almost an eternity between now and his life as Daikenja, longer than any mazoku could ever live.

“At least I had that” Murata agreed, he nodded his head. Then he smiled again closing his eyes, and the illusion was back in  
place. Once again he seemed a lighthearted adolescent, a flawless act that had been perfected over many lives lived in secrecy. 

It's creepy. Lady Celi thought as she smiled too. She then excused herself and they said their goodbyes. As she headed to  
bed she glanced back and saw Murata gazing at the portraits as if she had never been there at all.


End file.
